After the Fall
by AlwaysVictory
Summary: Thanos didn't kill half the universe—and it's up to the people who were snapped away to find a path back to home.


A/N. This story was written for EnchantedWonders18 hosted by Marvelously Magical Fanfiction FB page.

Huge thanks to my amazingly talented alpha/beta reader **_Insanity-Red_**.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling; The Guardians of the Galaxy and all related characters belong to Marvel. I'm merely playing in their sandboxes.

* * *

After the Fall

 _ **Morag, Andromeda Galaxy**_

 _"Reducto!"_

The creature that resembled a bastard offspring of a Xandarian bear and Kree gorilla exploded, splattering Peter in chunks of flesh and blue slime.

No longer in danger of being eaten, he groaned and wiped at his face, shakily rising to his feet.

"Ugh! That's disgusting."

"You're welcome," came a dry reply.

Peter turned to see a young woman. The first thing he noticed about her was the huge mane of brown curls that spilled over her shoulders. The second was that she held what looked like a carved stick—which she held like a weapon.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, taking a step closer.

"Don't think so," he answered slowly; he didn't take his eyes off her as he walked over to pick up his Quad Blaster from where he'd dropped it. "Just a few bumps and bruises.

"How did you kill it anyway? That thing seemed indestructible," he continued, recalling the battery-eating beast of similar toughness that he and the Guardians had fought on the Sovereign planet. That fight hadn't been over near as quick.

Instead of answering him, the woman waved her stick at him, and all the gunk he was covered in instantly disappeared.

"Whoa!" he said, taking a step backwards and instinctually raising the arm with the Quad Blaster.

Being de-gunked was nice and all, but the lady had just blown something to smithereens with the same . . . tool. And being exploded was definitely not nice at all.

"What _is_ that thing?"

"You saw what I did to that creature," she said calmly, her hand holding the stick similarly raised. "For your own good, I'd suggest you point that thing elsewhere."

"Well _sorry_ if what you did to that creature freaks me out a bit, considering you're pointing that thing at me now!"

After a few moments of staring contest, they both lowered their weapons.

"Where can I get one?" he asked, pointing at her stick.

"Nowhere," she muttered, her concerned gaze turning towards the rapidly darkening skies.

"Knowhere? Well that sucks, considering the place is basically kaput. How much for yours?"

"It's not for sale!" she snapped, clutching it tighter.

The wind had picked up, and an occasional snowflake was quickly becoming a heavy snowfall. The woman gazed off toward the horizon for a moment, seeming to read something that he couldn't.

She turned to face him again. "Listen, mister . . ."

"Quill," Peter supplied. "I'm Peter Quill. You might also know me by the name Star-Lord?" he added, ever hopeful that someone would recognize his self-given moniker.

She gave him a long look.

"Well, Mr. Quill, unless you want to spend the night on your ship," she said, nodding in the direction where he'd crash landed not so long ago, "I suggest you come with me. I have a shelter set up not far from here. It's not safe to be out after the dark.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she added as an afterthought, before turning and starting in the direction of the nearby caves.

He shrugged, and followed after her. She hadn't exploded him yet—which was more than he could say for some of his friends—and shelter sounded good.

In one of the caves, she'd set up a tent that was a lot larger on the inside than it was on the outside. There were several bowls and jars with what looked like bright blue flames placed on the table, the desk, the floor. Peter gawked at all the furniture, books and other items that filled the tent—not to mention the sheer amount of space—but quickly caught himself, and began wondering how much all this stuff would be worth.

Granger offered him tea and unopened box of crackers. Once his stomach felt comfortably full, Peter looked her over, his eyes flicking between her and the weird inside of her tent.

"I gotta ask, what exactly are you?" he asked her carefully.

"I'm a witch."

"What, like in ' _Bewitched'_?"

She rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist, letting her stick fall into her grasp from where she'd apparently been literally keeping it up her sleeve.

"So if you're a witch, then that's—?" began Peter, indicating her stick.

"My wand," she finished. "May I run a quick scan on you?"

"What for?" Peter asked a bit suspiciously.

"I'd like to see if there's quantum flux in your cellular RNA."

 _"Excuse me?"_

Granger sighed and began explaining matter-of-factly, "All matter in the universe resonates on a quantum level with a unique signature. That signature is constant and cannot be changed through any known process. It's the basic foundation of existence. Based on what I've observed of you, I suspect that you, just like me, don't belong here. I would simply like to see if I'm right."

He squinted at her for a long moment, but all he saw on her face was truth and a need for answers. He'd like some answers too, which was why he eventually nodded.

But not before asking, "Will it hurt?"

"Not in the slightest."

She didn't waste any time waving her wand over him. He felt a slight tingling sensation as she did so.

"Your cellular RNA is asynchronous with normal matter," she said, placing her wand back in its holster. "And it matches mine."

"Wait, are you telling me our vibes are . . . clashing with this place? Like it's a parallel universe or something?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought all that crap was just a theory."

"It was," she confirmed. "Until it wasn't. My counterpart in this universe actually collected quite a bit of data on the subject before she died."

And she began rambling about all the evidence and research her counterpart had done on the matter, but Peter tuned her out.

A parallel universe! Thanos' finger snap hadn't sent him to some kind of weird afterlife as he had originally thought. It sent him to a freaking parallel universe!

That certainly explained all the strangeness of the past few months: why Xandar was thriving and un-decimated, why the Guardians of the Galaxy had seemingly never even existed, and why Yondu was very much alive—and hadn't that been a punch in the gut. Especially when instead of the happy reunion that Peter hoped for, he got one absolutely freaked out Yondu, who was absolutely convinced he was being haunted.

"I have yet to figure out why I was suddenly transported here," Granger continued. "Here, as in this universe. Not this planet. But—"

"I know why," interrupted Peter, rising to his feet to pace.

His hands curled into fists as he gritted out the next part, "None of this would have happened if I hadn't lost my shit back on Titan. We would've taken Thanos' gauntlet, maybe even killed him."

"Kill Thanos?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you want to kill Thanos?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Because he's a genocidal psychopath who killed half of the universe with a snap of his finger! Or I thought he did. Now I'm not so sure."

The words began to tumble out—and at one point, he did briefly question the wisdom of giving this complete stranger all this information. He usually wasn't the sharing type, preferring to hide things beneath bravado and a snarky attitude. But he couldn't stop.

Perhaps it was a sense of kinship shared between people who didn't belong in this world. Perhaps his grief was clouding his judgement. Perhaps he felt incredibly lonely and simply wanted to talk to someone who was in the same situation and had the slightest chance of understanding him. Or maybe it was because she was obviously smart, and she might be able to think them up a way out if she knew more.

Whatever the reason, he proceeded to retell her the events as he knew them, beginning with the distress call from the Asgardians. He skimmed over the more gut-wrenching parts, but told her absolutely everything he could about Thanos.

Once he was done, a brief silence settled between them.

"Well," Granger finally said, "from what I've gathered, Thanos is different here. He goes around from planet to planet, but rather than commit genocide, he makes friends and recruits the brightest minds to help him realize his vision."

He scoffed. "You mean this universe has a Kumbaya version of Thanos?"

"I don't know if he sits around the campfire singing songs and holding hands," she deadpanned. "But I do know he seeks to bring stability to the universe not by exterminating half of its population, but by expanding its resources—largely through science. Devices to convert energy to matter, terraforming previously uninhabitable planets. That sort of thing."

"Ain't that lucky for the people of this universe," he muttered under his breath, before something she'd said earlier resurfaced in his brain.

"Wait, did you say the other you died in this universe?" he asked. "Just like the other me?"

She nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "Although there are infinite realities out there, it's possible that there's some sort of law that prevents two of the same being. Meaning we could only be transported to those where we either died or never existed."

She stood and walked over to the desk covered with books and paper and picked up an electronic device.

"My counterpart—one of the bright minds that Thanos recruited, actually—left a huge legacy and I've got a copy of it here," she said. "I have yet to go through it all, but she mentioned an artifact on this planet that I think might help us get back home, if that's what you would also like to do."

Peter stiffened. The last time he'd been on Morag, he was on a mission to retrieve the Orb that contained the Power Stone. Had he known back then what Thanos would do with that stone, he would have found a way to destroy it somehow or make sure it was never found. He wasn't about to make the same mistake here.

"What kind of artifact?" he asked slowly.

She pulled up an image of what looked like a tall mirror encased in rock and showed it to him. Peter almost sighed audibly.

"My best friend and I found this in an ancient tomb in Egypt shortly before I got transported here," she said. "We didn't know what it was, but my counterpart called it a quantum inflection device*. Hypothetically, it allows for travel to an alternate reality. And she wrote that there's one just like it on this planet."

She bit her lip.

"It won't be easy to find, though," she cautioned him. "This region contains large deposits of cabrodyne that makes most equipment go haywire—it's why we both crash landed here. But my counterpart began working on a spell—which I've finished—that detects kelyndide. It's the primary material that the device is made of. It _will_ take some time, but I'm confident I can find it."

Peter was silent for a moment as he absorbed her words.

"So we get back," he finally said. "And then what? How do we bring back all the others?"

"I haven't thought that far yet. One thing at a time."

He nodded, his mind made up. "I'm coming with you."

He might not be able to bring Gamora back from the dead but he sure as hell could avenge her.

* * *

"This planet really sucks!" said Peter, breathing heavily.

He deactivated his jet boots and scanned their surroundings, weapons still poised. He and Granger had just finished fighting what seemed like an army of those gorilla-bears and things that he could only describe as vampire-octopus-rhinos.

"Take that, suckers!" he gloated, observing the battlefield.

This Morag was unrecognizable. The planet looked like it had undergone global cooling instead of global warming, and the gravitational pull was all over the place. Peter was convinced that everything on this planet—from freezing temperatures to the creatures he'd never seen or heard of before—was trying to kill them.

"You know, Granger," he called over his shoulder, holstering his weapons after he made sure they got all the creatures. "You're a total badass. How come you aren't part of the Avengers?"

"Because some of my people," she said, letting out a pained groan, "are backwards idiots who wouldn't recognize common sense if it bit them in the arse. They decided that the Avengers were a strictly Muggle phenomenon."

He glanced over at the place where she was on her hands and knees, about to ask her what a Muggle was, but stopped short when he saw the state she was in. She was covered in snow, blue slime, and blood.

"Shit, Granger," he said, making his way to her and kneeling in front of her. "You're hurt!"

A deep cut above her left eyebrow was bleeding heavily, and another gash on her right arm was leaking red down her fingertips.

"Well spotted," she remarked acidly, one arm outstretched, as if she were a Jedi trying summon her lightsaber with the Force.

"What can I do?" he asked. "Do you have a first aid kit or something?"

"My wand," she said, swiping at the blood that was pouring into her eye, "I can't summon my wand."

Peter looked around and spotted it some distance ahead.

"Got it!" he said, taking off after it.

A moment after he picked up the wand, he let out a yelp and dropped it.

"It just yelled at me!" he shouted incredulously.

"What?"

"Your wand! It said don't touch me!"

"I didn't hear anything."

"It was in my head," insisted Peter. "Like a—"

"Can I just have my wand?" she interrupted impatiently.

She sat heavily on her bottom and sighed.

"But it's—"

"Just do it, Quill. _Please_."

Peter carefully picked up the wand and braced himself for the mental onslaught.

"Geez, talk about separation anxiety," he said, glaring at the offending object before handing it to Granger. "Here's your master back."

She gave him a strange look before taking the wand and using it to heal her injuries and to clean herself up. She leaned against a large hunk of ice once she was done and let out a heavy sigh.

"You're not an ordinary human, are you?" she said, her tone more statement than a question. "You're tougher than most people I've met—magical included; you have exceptionally high durability, endurance, and agility—although the latter two I suppose could be the result of extensive training."

"My father was a Celestial," Peter confirmed, deliberately flippant.

She took a moment to absorb this. "That might explain why you can literally hear my wand. Although, I don't know of anyone else who can do that—not even the wandmakers."

"Look, that's really interesting and all, but another snowmageddon is about to begin," Peter cut in, waving an arm to indicate the frozen wasteland all around them. "I think we should call it a day and set up camp."

He stood and offered her a hand. "I don't know about you, but I'm sick and tired of this Winter Wonderland."

She accepted his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.

"We're not far, I promise," she said, brushing off the snow.

He smirked. "You say that every day."

She looked away guiltily. "I'm sorry, but—"

"Hey, no need to apologize," he hurried to say. "We're looking for a needle in a haystack without a magnet, equipped with a compass that only has a certain range—while fighting some crazy ass monsters. All things considered, I'd say we're doing pretty good since we're not dead."

He bumped her shoulder with his, grinning. "Besides, the company's not bad."

He pulled his Zune out of his pocket and began scrolling through the songs. "Speaking of Winter Wonderland . . .

" _Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?_ " he sang, dancing as he walked.

Granger laughed at his goofiness and after a moment joined in the singing, " _In the lane, snow is glistening ._. ."

* * *

"Are you sure this'll work?" Peter asked, squinting at the mirror. "'Cause I don't wanna end up somewhere worse than we already are."

Rather than reflect them as a normal mirror would, it currently showed whatever was on the other side, in another reality—which was a dark place. Hopefully, it was the inside of the tomb, where Granger had found the mirror in their universe.

Granger stood next to him, a control device in one hand and her wand in the other.

"I've double and triple checked everything," she confirmed, waving her wand once more at the mirror and muttering something under her breath. "I'm detecting matter that is synchronous with our cellular RNA on the other side."

"Okay then," agreed Peter. "Let's do this."

He held out a hand.

"Just in case. I don't wanna get separated," he explained.

She eyed him for a moment, then pocketed the control device and took his hand. With the other, she touched the mirror. Instantly, a strange electrical current passed though him and he felt like he was gonna barf. He closed his eyes and held on tighter to Granger's hand.

When he opened them again, he found himself in a different, brightly-lit room, staring at a familiar face. Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the other man beat him to it.

"Peter Quill, Hermione Granger," he greeted. "My name is Dr. Stephen Strange. I've been expecting you."

Before either of them could react to that, he steamrolled onward, "You're not home, not yet. And I'm afraid I'm the one responsible for that. Have you brought your counterpart's research?"

"Yes," she replied slowly, eyeing Strange suspiciously.

Peter noted the tightening grip on her wand.

"Excellent. We'll need it, and your expertise, to help us win."

"Win?" repeated Peter with bitter disbelief. "Dude, we already lost."

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Quill. We lost a battle, but we can still win the war," he said sharply.

He cocked his head at them, then swept his arm and cloak to the side in invitation. "Please, come with me. There is much to discuss."

* * *

A/N. *Quantum Mirror was borrowed from Stargate: SG-1.

All the babble about 'quantum flux in the cellular RNA' is a nod to ST:TNG S07E11 "Parallels."


End file.
